


Touch

by CynicalMistrust



Series: The Pattern of Feathers [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Timestamp, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Part 4.5 of Pattern of Feathers~</p><p>Sam, Dean, and Cas have been through a lot together. Now that things have settled down and they are no longer faced with a choice between their lives or the world, maybe they can start to put their lives back together again.</p><p>~Dean wakes to Cas' touch.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This is set back near the beginning of the series, around part 4.

Dean awoke by degrees, tugged back into consciousness by a soothing yet distracting sensation of something rubbing along his cheek and jaw. He groaned deep in his throat and startled the rest of the way awake despite knowing who it was. The scent was unmistakable, a mix of spice and ozone. He cracked an eye open and glanced up at the angel. "Cas... what time is it?" He didn't want to know what time it was. It was still dark outside, which meant it was hours before it was time to get up.

Cas shifted and glanced at the clock without removing his hand. "Three forty-two."

Dean groaned and rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes again. "Why did you wake me?" He turned his head toward the angel when he moved again, shivering as he felt warm breath on his other cheek. Cas' voice when he spoke sent tingles through his limbs and he rolled onto his side, pressing against the warm body.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Cas' hand drifted further along his cheek, reaching Dean's ear and rubbing the lobe between his fingers. "I just wanted to touch you. Should I stop?"

Dean let out a long sigh of pleasure, curling his hand against Cas' hip and tilting his head to graze his teeth along the other male's jaw. "No," he said, reflexively pitching his voice lower than Cas'. Their 'Who Can Talk Deeper' game always worked in his favor when he had the sleepy, gravelly edge. His eyes fluttered open as the fingers on his ear slid into his hair, meeting bright blue for a moment before continuing to nibble along the stubble-lined jaw.

"Dean." Cas managed to growl his name even lower, leaning in and rubbing their cheeks together like a cat before biting at Dean's ear.

"Cas," Dean moaned, going even deeper, voice rumbling in his chest with the effort. He smirked as Cas growled and shifted on top of him, pinning him down in a way that let him know he'd won. He buried his fingers in the angel's hair and let his head fall back as he felt teeth on his throat. His legs shifted to wrap around the angel's hips, glad they'd both taken to going to bed in the nude; he wasn't awake enough to deal with the obstacle of clothing.

Cas snagged the lube off the nightstand and Dean dug his heels into the other male's thighs as he felt Cas' fingers pushing inside him. "Just do it, Cas. Need you." He looked up at Cas when he pulled back, winking at him and lifting his hips to prove he was serious. "Now," he added with a growl, hissing through his teeth when Cas took the hint and pushed into him. His breath stuck in his chest and he dug his fingers into the strong muscles of the angel's back, letting out a shaky breath as he was filled. He braced himself for Cas to start thrusting and glanced up in confusion when he didn't. "Cas.... What are you doing?"

Cas didn't say anything, only stared at him with those baby blues.

"Cas," he said again, voice dropping back to a guttural growl. "Move."

"Not yet." Cas stretched out to lean over Dean, resting his weight on his forearms near Dean's shoulders. "I like seeing you like this." He dropped his head forward, resting their foreheads together.

Dean tensed as some small part of him wanted to shove Cas away, keep him from worming his way in any deeper. It was embarrassing as fuck, Cas staring at him so intently from mere inches away. He tried to close his eyes, but Cas' nose bumping into his had them opening again and then he couldn't look away, completely helpless as Cas' stare drilled into his soul. And then Cas moved, just a little, just enough to elicit a gasp from him, and he felt something splintering deep inside him.

"Cas."

"Dean." Cas' voice was soft, followed by a hand resting against the side of Dean's face and his lips ghosting across Dean's with a teasing flick of his tongue.

"Don't." The strain in Dean's voice had nothing to do with the frustrating ache between his legs and everything to do with the sensation of being adrift.

"Don't what?"

Dean tightened his fingers in Cas' hair enough he was sure it hurt, clenching his jaw as he stared at the angel, unable to mask the wretched fear surging in his chest as he felt a wall start to crumble. "Don't let go."

Cas smiled and slid a hand between them to grasp Dean's dick. "Never." And then he was moving, thrusting into Dean like they both enjoyed, slow and deep, his other hand gripping Dean's hip.

Dean gave himself over to Cas, letting the angel push him to the heights of pleasure and orgasm and beyond, arching off the bed with a strangled shout as he came, feeling the burst of heat as Cas followed him over the edge. He grunted as Cas' weight settled on top of him, shivering at the tickle of panted breaths against his throat, fingers still wound tight in the dark hair.

That had never happened before, not quite. There'd been moments throughout the years, with Cassie, with Lisa, but they'd never gotten this intense before. They'd never been able to break him down this much and he heaved a sigh as he accepted how royally screwed he was, in every sense. "Fuck."

Cas stirred and looked up at him. "Again?"

Dean laughed and loosened his fingers in the angel's hair, smoothing back the errant locks. Royally, blissfully screwed.


End file.
